


Family Business

by imadra_blue



Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: A little fluffy, Canon - TV, Character Study, Complete, Family Drama, Family Dynamics, Gen, One Shot, Original Trilogy Cameo, Original Trilogy References, Post Episode S0209, Prequel Trilogy References, Sentimental, Vignette, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000, background kanan/hera
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-19
Updated: 2015-12-19
Packaged: 2018-05-07 14:50:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5460365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imadra_blue/pseuds/imadra_blue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn't too late for Kanan Jarrus, after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Family Business

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Wolfling](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfling/gifts).



> Takes place after Season 2, Episode 9 ("Legacy"), so will contain spoilers for that. I haven't read any of the supplementary _Rebels_ media yet (I'm hoping I will find some under the Christmas tree! *fingers crossed*), so please forgive any inconsistencies with that. I am operating under the assumption that Kanan is between 28 and 30 at the beginning of _Rebels_. Many thanks to Luthe for the quick and smart beta!
> 
> I hope you have a happy holiday, Wolfling!

…

The starship screamed out of the cloud cover and down towards the planet's surface. The ship struggled against Kanan's death grip on the cracked controls, trying to maintain its downward trajectory despite his best efforts.

"Blast!" Kanan bellowed and glanced behind him. Ezra held Hera's head steady, but the bandage was slipping off and blue blood trickled down her face. "Keep that bandage tight, Ezra!"

Ezra hurriedly pressed the bandage back to Hera's forehead. "I'm trying, I'm trying! But you're jerking us around! Can't you fly this thing?"

"I'm not flying, I'm crashing!" Kanan saw a glittering stream of blue etched into the rock-strewn grasslands below. A river. He whooped and used every ounce of the Force he could muster to direct the starship towards it.

Ezra seemed to have realized what Kanan was doing. His eyes grew even bigger. "I'm so glad that Hera isn't awake to see this."

Kanan pressed the steering rod as far back as he could. Beads of sweat tickled him as they rolled down his face. He felt flush with the Force, vibrant with a warm, tingling energy that spread through him, and then everything turned blue.

Later, Kanan would swear he felt the touch of his old master before he passed out.

…

Kanan awoke to the sound of rushing water. He felt cold and wet. It took him a few moments to realize that the two things were not related. The sound came from outside the ship, and the water that had drenched him came from a bucket that Ezra held.

"Finally, you woke up. I was worried I'd have nobody to talk to," Ezra said, frowning. The draw of his brow made him seem even more puma-like than usual.

Kanan sat up and immediately regretted it. The inside of their starship spun around like a child's toy. "I'm fine, thanks for asking."

"I know. I checked your life signs." Ezra set down the bucket and glanced back at Hera. "Wish I was so confident about her." He had laid Hera carefully on the padded bench in the back of the ship. A blue blanket had been draped over her. If not for the peek of the white bandage and her weak presence in the Force, Kanan might have thought her asleep.

After taking a deep breath to steady himself, Kanan forced himself to crawl over to her. He touched the side of her face. She was alive, but only barely. The hit that had disabled their ship had nearly killed her. The terror that such a morbid realization produced in Kanan was tempered only by the fact that she hadn't. She was alive, and she would live. They just needed to get her to a medical droid.

"How's the _Slicer_ doing?" Kanan asked.

"Well, the ship is pretty much dead. But it floats," Ezra said. He opened the back bay door, revealing the churning river they were on. A spray of water lipped over the side, but despite the strength of the current that carried them along, little water actually splashed in. Cold wind, however, set Kanan's ponytail flapping. The view from behind was a fierce picture of streaming blue and white, so vivid it seemed more like paint than water. Rocky cliffs dotted with patches of grass rose high to either side. Above, the storm clouds churned, but it did not rain. Ezra closed the door.

Kanan sighed. "I'll be sure to send Senator Organa's daughter a thank you note for making sure the ship floats. Next time, though, we need to take the _Ghost_. Then we might be able to take a hit without our pilot being incapacitated." He adjusted Hera's bandage. "She's going to make it."

"She better." Ezra flopped down into the pilot's seat. The steering stick appeared stuck in its last position. It sparked a bit when Ezra's hand passed over it. "All this trouble over dead Jedi holocrons. Do you know why the princess wanted us to find them?"

"You asked me that already. I don't know. Hera does, but she didn't tell me." Kanan looked around for the knapsack containing the holocrons and found it under the navigation panel. He picked it up. "Either way, we have to get these to Alderaan. Were you able to send a signal?"

"Sure. No idea if anyone received it. The comm is broken, too. Though it's not like I could tell them where we are. I don't know. The navigation system is so damaged I can't find the coordinates we jumped to after we were hit."

"If the _Slicer_ is incapacitated, then we'll just have to wait it out. Sabine and Zeb will find us. And if they don't, Chopper will," Kanan said with a confidence he didn't quite feel.

"Right." Ezra didn't bother faking any confidence. He turned away to face the front view window. It was cracked so badly that it had become an opaque white.

Kanan leaned back against the bench by Hera. At least she offered some warmth. "Let's get some rest while we wait."

"Not tired. Can I see those?" Ezra asked, gesturing at the knapsack filled with holocrons.

"Knock yourself out." Kanan tossed him the bag and then closed his eyes.

He fell asleep to the sound of Ezra trying to resurrect the dead.

…

When Kanan awoke the second time, he could still hear his master shouting at him to run. The echo of the memory sent cold shivers running down his spine. Though he couldn't be sure the shivers weren't from the cold itself. It had creeped in from the river and filled the _Slicer_.

Ezra dumped himself next to Kanan, which was more than welcome thanks to his body heat. "There's no other blankets, before you ask. Hera has the only one."

"Just our luck."

"Speaking of luck, I got one of these working." Ezra held up a holocron that sputtered out a light blue glow. "Has a bunch of data on Jedi padawans. I'm trying to find your record, but not a single Kanan yet."

Kanan could, if he thought hard enough, remember his old name, when that name still meant something. But since it didn't matter now, he didn't bother. So far as he was concerned, he was Kanan Jarrus. He always had been, really.

"Don't worry about it," Kanan said.

Ezra scooted closer, shivering a bit as well. He held up the holocron and a familiar image lit up of a young boy, no older than Ezra, with a coppery complexion and wide blue eyes. His brown hair had been shorn close, and his padawan braid dangled down his neck. "This one reminds me of you," Ezra said. "The name data file was corrupted. It says his master was Depa Billaba, though. That was your master, wasn't it?"

Kanan said nothing. Instead, he studied at the figure of the young padawan and tried to recall a time when he could see that face in the mirror. When an image of Depa Billaba, standing with dancer grace, her braids in perfect hoops, her dark eyes clear, emerged next to the padawan, Kanan had to remind himself to breathe.

To Kanan's surprise, Ezra turned off the holocron. "I'll keep looking," he said, and moved back to the pilot's seat. He took his body warmth with him. Kanan leaned back to press against the sleeping Hera. He hoped he offered her some warmth, at least.

…

There were a lot of things Kanan could remember, if he let himself dwell on them. He rarely did. At least while awake. While asleep was an entirely different matter, however. His dreams made very little sense, coming to him in a Force-driven swirl and eddy, not unlike the river that carried the _Slicer_ along. The dream he had aboard the _Slicer_ was no different.

Master Depa Billaba was there, as she always was, her cool hand pressed to his forehead. She smiled and asked him what he would like to eat. Though it was shameful to admit so, Kanan was sure that this was what it felt like to have a mother. Those who watched over the younglings purposefully reduced their physical affection and care, so the younglings would learn to grow as independent Jedi. But Master Depa felt differently. Her discipline and training did not interfere with her affection. She was free with her hugs and gentle touches, interested in Kanan's thoughts, and always there when he awoke.

There was Obi-Wan Kenobi, the third most famous member of the Jedi, always lurking around the periphery of Kanan's existence. He would often ask how Kanan was doing in a voice as smooth as silk. Whenever Kanan told Obi-Wan that he was very well, thank you, Obi-Wan's smile lit up his entire face. Why one of the most accomplished Jedi Knights in the Order took such a personal interest in Kanan's progress, he never knew. But there was Master Kenobi at every ceremony, clapping the loudest when Kanan's name was called.

Anakin Skywalker intimidated Kanan as much as Master Kenobi flattered him. When Master Kenobi came to Kanan's youngling classes, Skywalker was always in tow, clearly resentful of the time wasted on Kanan. Once, after Skywalker pointed out Kanan had grown too tall for his trousers again, Kanan wondered what he had done to personally offend him. After Ahsoka Tano had been assigned to Anakin and Kanan to Master Depa, Kanan finally started to understand why Anakin always scowled at him. When Kanan was present, Master Kenobi was looking at him—not at Skywalker.

Kanan had grown up in Ahsoka's orbit. She had always been the bright shining star and Kanan a distant planet. She had always been faster, smarter, stronger. She had many gifts; nothing about him stood out. He was average in every way. Yet, it was impossible to resent her. Ahsoka was always the first in line to play with him when they were younglings or to help him train for an exam. A part of him wasn't surprised she was Fulcrum. Of course she was.

That Ahsoka had connected with Hera made perfect sense, somehow. Kanan felt the tiniest thread of jealousy for that. She and Hera shared something he didn't have with either: a burning passion. Kanan had often been complimented for his calm by his teachers, but he always wondered if it was because he was born empty. Meeting Hera, traveling with her—sometimes he wondered if it was so he could share the tiniest sliver of her passion for all the things that mattered. Where she went, he would always follow.

And Ezra—Kanan belonged at his side as well. They belonged together like Master Kenobi and Skywalker once had.

…

Kanan started awake when Hera's hand fell on his head. He took a deep breath and checked on her. Steady breathing, but her pulse remained weak. They needed to get her into bacta soon. He dripped water into her mouth from a cup he found in a cabinet. When he was done, he turned around to find Ezra holding the same holocron as before.

The expression on Ezra's face seemed odd. His eyes seemed bluer than ever, though his frown darkened the rest of his face. "This holocron once belonged to someone named Obi-Wan Kenobi," he said. "I think that was the Jedi master on your holocron. He kept files on here. Files of every Jedi important to him. There are so many belonging to someone named Anakin Skywalker. So many notes, so many pictures."

Kanan turned to fully face Ezra. He set the empty cup down and waited for Ezra to continue.

"I think you're on here, Kanan. This Obi-Wan Kenobi wanted to train you. There's hundreds of messages sent to Jedi Council, practically begging them for you. They sent him only one message, denying him. Because of attachment." Ezra frowned. "Your father was his old master. His name was—"

"It doesn't matter." Kanan looked back at Hera. She stirred slightly, her fingers twitching. "He's dead and gone. I told you, Ezra, it's too late for me."

"But—"

"Stop it," Kanan ground out. His calm had vanished, replaced by a red hot splinter of grief. "Just leave it be. I have all the family I need."

Ezra sighed and looked about ready to speak again, but then the comm literally crackled to life as sparks flew everywhere.

"Miss us?" said Sabine's static-riddled voice as the shadow of the _Phantom_ fell over the _Slicer_.

…

Kanan stayed with Hera all during her bacta treatment and waited by her side in the recovery room. Despite the long hours spent with her, she naturally didn't wake up until after he had left to take a quick shower and grab something to eat. When he returned, Ezra slipped out of her door, past him. Ezra didn't meet his gaze, which Kanan took to be a bad sign.

Hera smiled the moment Kanan entered the room. She looked a pale green, but there was a sparkle in her eye and her head scar was barely noticeable—and would be covered up by the headpieces she usually wore. "There you are," she murmured, and threw up her arms.

A pressure that Kanan didn't realize had been squeezing his heart finally let up. He bent down and gave Hera a gentle hug and sat down next to her. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I got hit on the head by an astromech."

"Well, it wasn't an astromech, but the control panel that exploded on you was definitely at least as smart as Chopper."

Hera swatted him. "Don't be mean."

"Tell Chopper that."

Hera smiled for a moment, but then her expression sobered. She rested a small hand on Kanan's arm. "You hurt Ezra's feelings, you know."

"I… what?" Kanan pinched the bridge of his nose. "Is it because I didn't want to get into my past with him?"

"That's a part of it. But I think it's more that you think what he wanted to tell you doesn't matter."

"How is this turning into something about him? It's _my_ past."

"Just talk to him, Kanan. Don't be difficult."

"Tell Ezra that."

Hera laughed at him, which Kanan had learned meant he was being ridiculous. He couldn't help but smile a little. No one could be grumpy when Hera laughed. "Fine," he relented. "I'll talk to him."

Hera stretched up to kiss the tip of his nose. "Good boy."

…

When Kanan walked into the workshop, Ezra was sitting on the floor, stacking holocrons. Before Kanan could open his mouth, Chopper rolled into the stack and then chortled away as Ezra shouted after him. Kanan shook his head and waited for Chopper to roll out of the door before locking it. He sat next to Ezra, watching as he restacked the holocrons.

"Hera says that I hurt your feelings."

"Hera says a lot of things," Ezra said, scowling. His dark blue hair hung in his face as he leaned forward.

"Usually right things. Don't tell her I said that."

"Why? She already knows it."

Kanan chuckled, then sighed. He studied Ezra's unusually serious expression and his hunched shoulders. The boy had changed since learning of his parents' deaths. There was something heavier and darker lurking in his eyes. The Force around him had grown a little bleaker, a little colder. To see someone so filled with the living Force drained of it cut Kanan to the quick.

"What did you want to tell me, Ezra?" Kanan asked, trying to exude his calm through the Force to Ezra.

Ezra sighed. "You once told me it was too late for you because your parents are gone, but—" He swallowed. "But you had it backwards. My parents are dead." He sniffed loudly, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them. "And your father is dead. A Sith Lord killed him a long time ago. But your mother is alive."

The last sentence hit Kanan with the force of a planetary drill. Everything seemed to stop inside of him. Dizziness swept through him, and his entire body trembled.

"That's important, Kanan. It matters." Ezra looked near tears. "She lives on Alderaan."

Kanan reached out to Ezra, but the world grew dim. The Force thrummed around him.

"Kanan!"

But Kanan was not there, at least not in spirit.

…

Kanan didn't know where he was, but he suspected it wasn't much of a where. More of a when. A tall man with long brown hair, wearing Jedi robes, led him through the swirls and eddies of the Force. When he spoke, his voice rumbled like that of a nexu. "Your gift is the unifying Force. In remembering. In finding peace through the Force. Your padawan will need that peace. You already sense the darkness growing in him. Do not turn a blind eye to it as Obi-Wan did with his apprentice."

"What do you mean? Who are you?" Kanan asked. He reached out his hand, but it was translucent and glimmered with blue energy.

The man remained with his back to Kanan. "It no longer matters, as you said. But she still matters." He pointed across the streams of energy. Kanan turned and saw a vision of a beautiful dusky-skinned woman twirling a baby around. The infant shrieked with joy, his tiny hands reaching to grasp at her. As his fingers encircled her long, thick locks, Kanan suddenly remembered the feel of his mother's hair in his hand.

"I'm going to miss you so much," she whispered into the baby's ear. "But I know you'll do me proud as a Jedi."

When Kanan returned to the moment, to Ezra grasping at his shoulders, his face felt wet.

…

The Alderaanian Princess stood primly at the exit of the spaceport, waiting as Kanan, Hera, and Ezra disembarked the _Phantom_. The cool breeze set her white gown fluttering about her ankles. She was small, even for a young girl her age, and had perfectly coiffed caf-colored hair. Something about her face reminded Kanan of Anakin Skywalker, though he couldn't explain why that thought occurred to him.

"Wow," Ezra muttered, clearly appreciating the girl. She was right around his age. And seemed no more interested in him than Sabine, poor guy.

"Greetings, Captain Syndulla," the princess said, and bowed. "I am Leia Organa. I understand you have General Kenobi's holocrons for me?"

Hera returned the bow. "We sure do." She gestured for Ezra to hand them over. When he continued to stand there, gaping at the pretty girl, Kanan nudged him. Ezra wordlessly handed them over, keeping his gaze fixed on Princess Leia.

"Excellent. Thank you so much for your assistance. This will help my research," Princess Leia said, and took the bag. Though her manners were perfect, the sparkle in her eye yet again reminded Kanan of Skywalker.

"You're quite welcome, Your Highness," Hera said. "I hope this isn't too forward, but I was hoping we could spend a day here. We need to visit one of your citizens. We were hoping you could help us find her."

"Oh? Rebel business?"

Hera glanced back at Kanan and smiled. "No. Family business."

…

"We'll wait out here," Hera said, pulling Ezra back by his backpack.

Ezra glanced back at her then Kanan. "All right, fine. I'm giving you ten minutes before I go in there."

Hera rested her other hand on top of Ezra's head. "We'll give you as long as you need."

Kanan nodded at them both and then turned to his mother's home. It was small and set into the cliff, with bubbled windows and a white finish. It was the same one he had been born in, he suspected. He walked up to the door and pressed the buzzer. And waited.

Just as his palms were beginning to sweat, the door slid open. A silver protocol droid stared at him. "Greetings, stranger. I am J-1IX. How may I assist you?"

"Yes, I'm—I'm Kanan Jarrus. I'm here to see the Lady Lovaria. The princess said she'd be expecting me?" Kanan cleared his throat. He felt like his stomach was trying to escape through his belly button.

"Of course. Please follow me," the protocol droid said, and turned back into the house.

Kanan took one last look back at Hera and Ezra, then followed the droid in. As the door slid shut behind him, the familiar smell of greenrose filled his nose. It was a smell that had always filled him with calm and a sense of safety. Now he understood why. It smelled like home. He took a moment to remind his heart to continue beating and followed the droid deeper into the house. On the walls were pictures of people that Kanan didn't recognize, but vaguely reminded him of himself. The last picture was of a fat, blue-eyed baby boy in white rompers. He sincerely hoped that wasn't him. The baby was drooling.

The droid led him into the main sitting room, where a plump woman in a white gown sat by the bay window, reading a holonovel. She had the same dusky complexion Kanan recalled, and her eyes were a warm brown when she cast her gaze in his direction. She was one of the most beautiful women Kanan had ever met. Kanan knew her instantly. The curve of her neck, the feel of her arms, the sound of her voice. His knees felt weak at the sight of her.

Never in a million cycles had he ever thought he would meet his mother.

Lady Lovaria came to her feet, the holonovel clattering to the floor. She approached him quietly, her expression filled with an undefined emotion on the spectrum between joy and misery. She cupped his cheeks with the same hands that had once smoothed his back as a babe.

"How very much like your father you look," she whispered, and kissed his forehead.

Kanan tried to find words, but none got past the knot stuck in his throat. He swallowed it back. His mother gripped his shoulders, beaming at him. She was tall, like him.

"I'm sorry. I got ahead of myself. Hello, my son," she said, eyes glittering in the waning sunlight.

"H-hello. I'm—I'm Kanan Jarrus," he choked out, wishing his voice didn't tremble so much. "I work with Senator Organa."

"Of course you do. I always knew you'd make me proud."

"I—I thought you'd be dead," Kanan whispered.

Lady Lovaria beamed. "I thought the same when the Jedi Order fell. But your father always said the Force was filled with wonders. And he promised I'd see you again one day. He didn't lie. For that, I am eternally grateful."

…

Later, after Kanan introduced Hera and Ezra to his mother, Kanan noticed Ezra had slipped off while they were in conversation. After a moment, he squeezed his mother's hand and stepped outside onto the deck after him. The wind ruffled the tall grass as far as the eye could see, and the twilit sky offered dark blues and purples accentuated by the orange of the setting sun. Ezra sat on the edge of the deck with his knees drawn up, his expression thoughtful. He didn't stir at Kanan's entrance.

Kanan sat down beside Ezra, dangling his long legs over the edge. He sat there, in silence, letting the Force flow through him, finding his center, until Ezra was ready to speak.

"If I had been born before the war, would I have been taken from my parents by the Jedi as a baby, too?" Ezra asked.

"Yes."

Ezra's face darkened. "Then it wouldn't have hurt so much when they were taken."

"No. But it would have hurt when you lost someone else." Kanan studied him. "Losing my master was like losing my mother. She was the only mother I had in the Jedi Order. I am lucky enough that Lady Lovaria lives, but she doesn't replace my master. The empty place Master Depa left behind will always be empty. But I am glad that place exists, because it means she was there. And that she mattered."

Ezra buried his face in his knees and shook. After a long moment, he spoke. "I'm happy for you. I am. But I—I—"

Kanan did what his master would have done. He drew the boy into a hug and rested his chin on the top of Ezra's hair. "I know, Ezra. Trust me, I know." 

After a moment, Ezra wrapped his arms around Kanan's waist, his face hidden in Kanan's shoulder. Behind him, he could sense Hera and Lady Lovaria watching them through the glass door.

"I promise you this, Ezra. I will always be there when you need me. Just like my master was for me. Even if I'm dead, I'll be there."

Ezra didn't respond in words. He just nodded his head, face still hidden.

"Now, would you like something to eat?" Kanan asked, just as his master would have. As his mother just had not even fifteen minutes before. "Lady—my mother said she'd like us to stay for dinner."

Ezra nodded again.

Kanan stood up carefully, easing Ezra up as well. "You know, you taught me something."

"I did?" Ezra asked, without looking up, his dark blue hair draping his face.

"Yeah. You taught me that what is gone still matters. Because you can find it again. It won't be the same, but that's all right. Nothing ever stays the same. What's important was that it was there all along." Kanan opened the door to his mother's house. "Take a minute or two. We'll be waiting for you, when you're ready."

As Kanan walked in, leaving Ezra behind, he sensed something dark and coiled release inside of Ezra. Where there had been tension, now there was peace.

Master Depa seemed to follow Kanan as he walked. Just as he once had her.

…

_End._


End file.
